The next morning, as usual, I got up when the sun did and no one else was up. Condensation had crystallized on the rainfly window, so I couldn’t see outside. I twiddled my thumbs and played “what is that noise” until I heard others shuffling around. It was cold. I put on thermal undies and as many socks as I could fit between my feet and my shoes, and got out of my tent. There were patches of snow on the ground and it was sleeting. I grabbed my potty kit and went out to make a donation to what felt like “away” from the camp. I walked around a rock out of a stand of trees and saw what I could not see the night before: a real live Little House on the Prairie looking meadow. I didn’t have time to enjoy it yet though, had to find another place to “go”.
At what felt like almost noon, the rest of the camp started flopping out of their bags and soon the campsite was a medley of zippers vwipping in quadraphonic sound. I took the first food shift, made and cleaned up breakfast for our group, and sat around the fire with the others. That’s when it finally started to feel good. Around 10 am we were to make the 6 mile trek to Jackass peak.